“You—you will suffer for this!” he muttered thickly. Again he strained at the cords around his ankles and wrists, but he soon saw that it was useless. “We know how to deal with meddlers.”
The Phantom smiled complacently. As yet it had not occurred to his prisoner to cry for help, and The Phantom had no fear of the result if he should do so. Though Slade and the others were not far away, they were as harmless as if they did not exist. Save for the ventilating shaft, the room was practically soundproof, and the exits were so completely hidden that they would never be able to locate the chamber.
“We shall see,” was his calm response. “Mr. Shei appears to be a very shrewd man, but even he has his limitations. The infirmities of age are beginning to show a marked effect on his strategy. He is too old for this sort of thing.”
“So,” said the scientist in queer tones, “you think you know him?”
The Phantom nodded. “I had an encounter with him some years ago, and he proved to me then that he had extraordinary astuteness. As a matter of fact, he was a little too much for me. The other day I ran into him by accident, and we had quite a pleasant little chat.”
Tagala lay motionless on the cot while his eyes, slowly recovering their customary brilliance, searched The Phantom’s face.
“The police are laboring under the delusion that you are Mr. Shei,” he dryly observed.
“Oh, well, the police are not particularly bright at times.” The Phantom shrugged. “Now, doctor, you and I are going to have a very serious talk. I was outmaneuvered last night, but this is my round. I shall convince you by a very simple method that it will be wise for you to place the antidote in my hands.”
Despite his humiliation and physical discomfort, the doctor gave a contemptuous laugh.
“Fool!” he snorted. “Every move you make is fore-doomed to failure. We have provided against every possible emergency. Our plan is already a certain success. Only this afternoon Mr. Shei telephones me from New York that everything is going well. A group of the most celebrated physicians in America have held several consultations without practical results. They are utterly at a loss to diagnose the disease or to prescribe even a palliative. Poor idiots! It took me years to perfect the toxin, and they have only a few days in which to combat its effects. On the seventh day after the inoculation, the seven subjects will be doomed unless the antidote is administered in the meantime. After the seventh day it will be too late. Mr. Shei told me that two of the subjects are already in a mood to discuss terms. Perhaps by to-morrow they will place half of their fortunes at Mr. Shei’s feet.”